Her graceful arms in meekness bending
Across her gently-budding breast;
At one kind word those arms extending
To clasp the neck of him who blest
His child caressing and carest
Zuleika came- and Giaffir felt
His purpose half within`him melt :
Not that against her fancied weal
His heart though stern could ever feel;
Affection chain'd her to that heart;
Ambition tore the links apart.

VII.

"Zuleika! child of gentleness!

How dear this very day must tell,
When I forget my own distress,
In losing what I love so well,
To bid thee with another dwell:
Another and a braver man
Was never seen in battle's van.
We Moslem reck not much of blood;
But yet the line of Carasman (1)
Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
First of the bold Timariot bands
That won and well can keep their lands.
Enough that he who comes to woo
Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou :

His years need scarce a thought employ ;
I would not have thee wed a boy.
And thou shalt have a noble dower:
And his and my united power
Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
Which others tremble but to scan,
And teach the messenger (2) what fate
The bearer of such boon may wait.

(1) Carasman Oglou, or Kara Osman Oglou, is the principal landholder in Turkey he governs Magnesia: those who, by a kind of feudal tenure, possess end on condition of service, are called Timariots: they serve as Spahis, according to the exten of territory, and bring a certain number into the field, generally cavalry.

(2) When a Pacha is sufficiently strong to resist, the single messenger, who is always the first bearer of the order for his death, is strangled instead, and sometimes five or six, one after the other, on the same errand, by command of the refractory patient; if, on the contrary; he is weak or loyal, he bows, kisses the Sultan's respectable signature, and is bowstrung with great complacency. In 1810, several of these presents were exhibited in the niche of the Seraglio gate; among others, the head of the Pacha of Bagdat, a brave young man, cut off by treachery, after a desperate re.

sistance.

And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
'Twas mine to teach obedience still
The way to love, thy lord may show."

In silence bow'd the virgin's head;
And if her eye was fill'd with tears,
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek from pale to red,
And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped,
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of Bashfulness,

Even Pity scarce can wish it less!
Whate'er it was the sire forgot;
Or if remember'd, mark'd it not; .

Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed, (')
Resign'd his gem-adorn'd chibouque, (")

And mounting featly for the mead,

With Maugrabee (") and Mamaluke,

His way amid his Delis took, (*)

To witness many an active deed

With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed.
The Kislar only and his Moors
Watch'd well the Haram's massy doors.

IX.

His head was leant upon his hand,

His eye look'd o'er the dark blue water
That swiftly glides and gently swells
Between the winding Dardanelles ;
But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,
Nor even his Pacha's turban'd band

(1) Clapping of the hands calls the servants. The Turks hate a superfluous expenditure of voice, and they have no bells.

(2) "Chibouque," the Turkish pipe, of which the amber mouth-piece, and sometimes the ball which contains the leaf, is adorned with precious stones, if in possession of the wealthier orders.

(S)" Maugrabee," Moorish mercenaries.

(4) "Dolis," bravos who form the forlorn hope of the cavalry, and always begin the

action.

VOL. III.-U

.

Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,
Careering cleave the folded felt (')
With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
Nor mark'd the javelin-darting crowd,
Nor heard their Ollahs (2) wild and loud
He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter!

X.

No word from Selim's bosom broke;
One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke :
Still gazed he through the lattice grate,
Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd,
But little from his aspect learn'd:
Equal her grief, yet not the same;
Her heart confess'd a gentler flame :
But yet that heart alarm'd or weak,
She knew not why, forbade to speak.
Yet speak she must but when essay
"How strange he thus should turn away!
Not thus we e'er before have met;
Not thus shall be our parting yet."
Thrice pac'd she slowly through the room,
And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd :
She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd
The Persian Atar-gul's (') perfume,
And sprinkled all its odours o'er
The pictured roof (*) and marble floor:
The drops, that through his glittering vest
The playful girl's appeal address'd,
Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,
As if that breast were marble too.
"What, sullen yet? it must not be
Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee!"

(1) A twisted fold of felt is used for scimitar practice by the Turks, and few hut Mussulman arms can cut through it at a single stroke: sometimes a tough turban is used for the same purpose. The jerreed is a game of blunt javelins, animated and graceful.

(2) "Ollahs," Alla il Allah, the "Leilies," as the Spanish poets call them, the sound is Ollan; a cry of which the Turks, for a silent people, are somewhat profuse, particularly during the jerreed, or in the chase, but mostly in battle. Their animation in the field, and gravity in the chamber, with their pipes and comboloios, form an amusing contrast.

(3) "Atar-gul," ottar of roses. The Persian is the finest.

(4) The ceiling and wainscots, or rather walls, of the Mussulman apartments are generally painted, in great houses, with one eternal and highly coloured view of Constantinople, wherein the principal feature is a noble contempt of perspective; below arms, scimitars, &c. are in general fancifully and not inelegantly disposed.

十

She saw in curious order set

The fairest flowers of Eastern land

"He loved them once; may touch them yet,
If offer'd by Zuleika's hand."

The childish thought was hardly breathed
Before the Rose was pluck'd and wreathed;
The next fond moment saw her seat

Her fairy form at Selim's feet:

.

"This rose to calm my brother's cares
A message from the Bulbul (') bears;
It says to-night he will prolong
For Selim's ear his sweetest song;
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try for once a strain more glad,
With some faint hope his alter'd lay
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.

XI.

What! not receive my foolish flower?
Nay then I am indeed unblest :

On me can thus thy forehead lower?

And know'st thou not who loves thee best?

Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest !

Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest ?

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest,

Since words of mine, and songs must fail,
Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.

I knew our sire at times was stern,
But this from thee had yet to learn
Too well I know he loves thee not
But is Zuleika's love forgot?
Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan
This kinsman Bey of Carasman
Perhaps may prove some foe of thine.
If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,
If shrines that ne'er approach allow
To woman's step admit her vow,
Without thy free consent, command,
The Sultan should not have my hand!
Think'st thou that I could bear to part
With thee, and learn to halve my heart?

(1) It has been much doubted whether the notes of this "Lover of the rose," are sad or merry; and Mr. Fox's remarks on the subject have provoked some learned controversy as to the opinions of the ancients on the subject. I dare not venture conjecture on the point, though a little inclined to the "errare mallem," &c. if Mr. Fox was mistaken.

Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,

Where were thy friend- and who my guide?
Years have not seen, Time shall not see
The hour that tears my soul from thee:
Ev'n Azrael, (') from his deadly quiver
When flies that shaft, and fly it must,
That parts all else, shall doom for ever
Our hearts to undivided dust!"

-

XII.

- he felt;

He lived he breathed he moved
He raised the maid from where she knelt;

His trance was gone.

in rays that melt.

his keen eye shone
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt;
With thoughts that burn
As the stream late conceal'd
By the fringe of its willows,
When it rushes reveal'd

In the light of its billows;

As the bolt bursts on high

From the black cloud that bound it,
Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round it.
A war-horse at the trumpet's sound,
A lion roused by heedless hound,
A tyrant waked to sudden strife
By graze of ill-directed knife,
Starts not to more convulsive life
Than he, who heard that vow, display'd,
And all, before repress'd, betray'd:
"Now thou art mine, for ever mine,
With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;
Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.
Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;

That vow hath saved more heads than one :
But blench not thou-thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness
I would not wrong the slenderest hair
That clusters round thy forehead fair,
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar, (*)

(1) "Azrael "—the angel of deatn.

(2) The treasures of the Pre-adamite Sultans. See D'HERBELOT, article Istakar.